


An Angel Will Watch Over You

by kedriaa



Series: DETW [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-08
Updated: 2003-07-08
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedriaa/pseuds/kedriaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "Dragons of the East, Tigers of the West" prequel - A tale of Duo's past; before he ever set foot in China, on how he became associated with a charismatic blond Lieutenant Merquise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Angel Will Watch Over You

**County Kilkenny, Ireland.  
Late 1830s.**

"Duo! Peter! **Stop!** " the irate nun ran up to a pair of boys scuffling in the dirt. The rest of the children were clustered around them, cheering them on. Entertainment of this value was rare in the hallowed compound of Maxwell Church. They were taking full advantage of this fleeting moment of amusement.

Helen forced her way into the circle, careful not to get hit by the four pairs of rabid, flailing limbs, and grabbed the boys by the scruffs of their necks.

"I SAID stop!" she growled. For a petite and gentle woman, she had an uncanny strength when it came to dealing with the boys. She could also put the fear of God, and her, into this band of mischievous orphans with a single look.

Peter and Duo both knew better than to argue with her when she was using that tone of voice. They ceased their struggling and went to staring daggers at one another instead.

"That's better." she nodded sharply. "Peter, go to Father Maxwell and tell him why you were fighting with Duo."

Peter smirked at Duo as he sauntered up to Father Maxwell's study.

"But, Sis- " Duo began protesting for fearing that he would be pegged as the baddie, yet again, but another look from the stern sister silenced him. 

"Duo, you will come with me and tell me why you were fighting with Peter." she then turned to the crowd, "The rest of you, continue with your chores, behave and I had better not find anyone else fighting."

The crowd dispersed and went back to their chores obediently.

Helen silently marched Duo up to her own study. The young Irish was feeling really bad having angered the sister again. He didn't like getting her cross but he just couldn't let Peter get away with being a bully.

She opened the door and pointed at the chair by her table. "Sit and wait till I return."

Duo obediently stepped into the room and climbed onto the chair, patiently waiting for his punishment.

Moments later, Helen returned with a basin of water and some iodine. She set the basin on the table next to Duo and began wringing out the face cloth floating in it.

Duo sat silently staring at his shoes, too afraid to see the disappointment in Helen's eyes.

Hooking a finger under the boy's chin, Helen lifted his face to meet hers. Her smile was warm, kind and understanding. There was no hint of disappointment only worry in those deep brown eyes. Duo began to cry, feeling worse that she wasn't scolding him.

"Hush now, ya silly wee bairn," she whispered as she cleaned the tears and dirt off the cherubic face. "There's no need for tears. Tell me why you and Peter were fighting." 

"He was being a bully."

"Was he picking on you?"

"No, he was picking on Connor."

"What was he saying?"

"He didnae say anything at first, he was tying ta make Connor do all his chores and when Connor told him ta go sod off, he purposely messed up all the things Connor had tidied. I told him to stop being a bully and do his own work and to leave us alone. He didnae like it and he called me and Connor names before he threw a stick at Connor."

"Is Connor hurt?"

"No, I stopped it before it hit him."

"What did he call you?"

Duo looked forlornly up at his guardian then peered at his shoes again. "I don't wanna say."

"Alright, you don't have to." She patted him on the arm. "Where is Connor?"

"I asked him ta go hide before I hit Peter in his big fat ugly gob for being nasty."

"There's no need for name-calling, Duo," she chided gently, "That was a very brave thing you did protecting Connor."

"He's only little."

"You're not very big yourself, Duo." She lifted his face again to clean out the cut on his forehead. Holding his face steady, she dabbed a little iodine on it making the boy wince. "There all done."

"It hurts." The boy frowned.

"Well, I hope that will teach you to not fight with the other boys," she quipped as she moved around her table to sit in her own chair. "Violence will never bring about solutions, Duo. Remember what Father Maxwell taught us. Hitting someone will only make it worse and even harder to resolve your problems. I know Peter can be a little mean sometimes but he is bigger and older than you and one day he could really hurt you. Do not solve your problems with your fists. Talk to him instead and you'll find that you can get along better with him."

Duo nodded and sniffed; his eyes firmly on his shoes.

"Do you promise me not to fight again?"

"What if he hits me first?"

Helen resisted the urge to giggle; it was, after all, a serious matter. "Then come and tell me or Father Maxwell."

Little eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted. "I'm not a tattletale!"

"Would you rather be hurt?"

"He doesn't scare me!" he pouted some more.

"Will you not do it for me then?" she pleaded.

Duo scowled at her for a moment then conceded. "Alright, just fer you, I promise."

"Thank you, Duo." Helen got up and went over to Duo to give him a hug. "You're a good boy."

"Sister Helen!" the young orphan protested to the hug. "I'm not a baby anymore."

The sister giggled and released the struggling boy. "You'll always be my wee bairn, all of you are! Even Peter. Now off you go! Back to your chores, but don't think this is over; you and Peter will both still be punished for fighting. Father Maxwell will tell you what your punishment is tomorrow morning." 

"Thank you, Sister Helen," Duo said as he hopped off the chair and sped out into the yard.

Helen moved to the window and looked down at the boys in the yard. About a dozen of them were cleaning it up. That was their chore for that afternoon. Her eyes fell on a bubbly figure with a long chestnut braid bouncing into the yard. Several of the boys, Connor included, huddled around him - most likely asking him what happened after she broke the fight. Duo animatedly told his story; Helen could only guess what he actually said. Judging by the smile on his face, he was very likely retelling it with exaggerated flamboyance. That was Duo's style.

Although she was not supposed to have a favourite, there was no denying that the little braided boy had wormed his way into her heart and planted himself firmly there. Duo could be quite a handful at times, wilful and stubborn, but he was also the gentlest and most protective creature she had ever met. He was bright, smart and had a penchant for learning. His curiosity and his determination had, more often than, not led him into trouble. Still, the boy would not be deterred in indulging in his escapades.

As Helen stood silently watching Duo return to complete his chore, she only hoped that she would be able to give him all the help he needed to move on from the poverty of Ireland. She could see that Duo was destined for a greater vocation than being a simple clergyman. Any humble parish could never satisfy his gregarious spirit and voracious appetite for the new and diverse. Duo belonged to the WORLD. He needed to be out there embracing everything life would offer him.

She wanted so much more for him and she gave him all she could. Where she failed to provide, she prayed that the Lord would not forsake His son.

~*~

Duo grumbled to himself, seeing that there was no one else there. Not unless he counted the gargoyle.

His punishment turned out to be the chore of cleaning out the gutters on the roof of the chapel. Being nimble and sure on his feet, he was the only one Father Maxwell trusted enough not to fall off the roof. It was a dirty job but he was glad that he wasn't sentenced to cleaning out the privies like Peter was. At least he was out in the sun and the air was still warm on that early autumn morning.

Helen had braided his hair and tucked it in the grotty work smock that he was wearing over his clothes. Father Maxwell had been nice enough to find him a pair of old, slightly worn leather gloves to use. It was too big and kept slipping from his petite hands. At least it saved him from having to touch the muck, so he wasn't complaining. Much.

The gutter was filled with leaves and twigs and had clogged it up. Rainwater had been pooling there for days, even weeks, and Duo was certain that things had been growing in there. He wrinkled his nose in disdain as he cleared the mulch out.

He had thought that these punishments would've taught him not to pick a fight again but it seemed that the boy was too stubborn to learn from these lessons. That wasn't his first punishment, so Duo was pretty sure that he was doomed to repeat this for the rest of his life!

After realising that his complaints would not miraculously clean the gutters for him, he began singing his favourite hymns instead. Maybe the Lord would respond better that way? 

Sweet angelic voice filtered though the grove around the chapel as the boy sang and toiled.

_/ I give my hands to do your work_  
and Jesus Lord, I give them willingly  
I give my feet to go your way  
and every step I shall take cheerfully 

_/ O the joy of the Lord is my strength, my strength_  
O the joy of my Lord is my help, my help  
For the power of his Spirit is in my soul  
and the joy of the Lord is my strength 

_/ I give my eyes to see the world_  
and everyone in just the way you do  
I give my tongue to speak your words  
to spread your name and freedom-giving truth 

_/ I give my heart that you may love_  
in me your Father and the human race  
I give myself that You may grow  
in me and make my life a song of praise 

_/ O the joy of the Lord -----_

Duo stopped mid-verse and looked up. He could hear a faint commotion down the road. From his vantage point on the roof of the chapel he could see a group of the villagers congregating around a troop of British soldiers. He could only wonder what the British Armed Forces would be doing there in their humble village.

He continued to watch the group as they began advancing. Closer he noticed that the villagers looked like they would've pounced on the soldiers if the soldiers didn't outgun them. Several soldiers kept a wary eye on them while the others marched purposefully towards the church.

As the commotion neared, it brought Father Maxwell and Sisters Mary and Helen out into the fore courtyard. Duo felt a sense of foreboding welled up in his heart as he crouched low behind the gargoyle, his eyes still on the soldiers.

From where he was, he could not hear the words being exchanged between Father Maxwell and the commander of the troop.

The commander, Duo noted, was tall, blonde and had a neatly trimmed beard. He was dressed in a crimson tunic, white breeches and shiny black boots. Gold trimmings and silver buttons adorned the tunic. A sabre hung off a baldric on his left hip and a pistol was holstered to his right. To a young orphan like Duo, the man was positively impressive.

His eyes wandered to the rest of the group. The other soldiers were all dressed somewhat alike but not as flamboyant as their commander was. All bar one.

Duo stared at this lone soldier who stood out among the others. He had the same flaxen hair as the commander, short and neatly coiffed. He wore red and white as well but his decorations were not as many or as ostentatious. He, too, had a sabre hanging by his hip but no pistol. Duo thought that he looked a little too young to be soldier - but what did he know?

Father Maxwell looked angry. His eyes reflected anger but his expression was still calm and serene. Duo has never seen him look angry, not even when he and Jack nearly burnt down the grotto last summer. What could the commander be saying to him to make him forget his own preaching? Duo wondered.

Father Maxwell then turned to instruct Mary and she hurried off. A soldier tried to follow her but Father Maxwell stood in his way. Without hesitation the man brought his hand heavily down on the Father's face.

That was the most foolish thing that anyone could've done. Upon witnessing the violence administered to their respected and loved religious leader, the villagers were driven to a frenzy. They stormed the church courtyard and fought back, not caring for their own safety.

Duo almost leapt off the roof to defend his beloved Father and Sister. Instead, he lowered his head and prayed. He had promised Helen that he would not fight again and he wouldn't let her down one day after he made that promise. He did the only thing he knew to do - he prayed for God to keep her and Father Maxwell safe.

Duo crouched behind the gargoyle in fear when he heard loud bangs echo around him. The frantic screaming stopped when the deafening bangs sounded. He didn't understand what was going on and he was too scared to move. Hugging the gargoyle like his life depended on it, Duo prayed even harder and began crying.

~*~

Milliardo looked up towards the chapel roof. He could've sworn that he saw movement up there. It might've been a squirrel but it seemed a little large to be a rodent.

He wasn't paying any more attention to his father. To be honest, he didn't even want to be there. Milliardo felt that what they were doing was wrong. This church belonged to the people of the village, what does it matter that it was a Catholic church? They were still God fearing people. The parish was evidence enough that they were a good community. 

How had the British people grown so arrogant and narcissistic to believe that their faith is the 'right' faith? Even though the presence of the English in Ireland went as far back as the 12th century, Milliardo never once thought that they had the right to do what they were doing. It was disheartening to see how downtrodden the people of Ireland were. Nevertheless, it was not his place to question his father or change his mind. Heaven knows he tried.

His father would brook no argument from him when he refused to be a part of this requisition. In fact, he didn't want to come to Ireland in the first place. Nonetheless, as heir to Lord Peacecraft, he obeyed his father like a filial son should.

Moving quietly away from the rest of the group, Milliardo meandered around the grove and made his way towards the chapel. He wasn't sure what he planned to do but anything was better than listening to his father spouting holier-than-thou speeches at a PRIEST!

As he neared the chapel, he realised that he was right. There was somebody up there - a little boy hiding behind a gargoyle. He was too busy looking at the priest and Lord Peacecraft to notice Milliardo looking up at him.

Milliardo wondered what he was doing up there when he noticed the grimy gloves and smock that the boy was wearing. The boy must have been cleaning the gutters. Milliardo decided against calling out to the boy, for fear of starling him. The last thing the blond wanted was to scare the poor thing making him slip.

A crescendo of voices brought his attention back to his father. To his horror, he realised the villagers had begun fighting the soldiers. He was just relieved that none of his father's command had drawn their pistols. His eyes fell on the priest and the nun. She was standing protectively over the priest, screaming at Lord Peacecraft. The priest rose to his feet and tried to pacify and protect her.

The villagers were rebelling with the strength of a thousand armies and the fight gradually moved into the churchyard. The scene before Milliardo was utter chaos. He was at a loss as to what he could do. His father wouldn't listen to him, the soldiers would certainly not obey his command and he knew he had no authority to ask the villagers to calm down.

Feeling utterly helpless, he stood rooted to the ground and watched the terror unfold. 

The sound of several gunshots rang out in the air and silenced the angry shouting.

Even if he tried, Milliardo could not describe the feeling of dismay and repugnance that he felt for his father when he noted that the only smoking pistol in the vicinity was in the hands of Lord Peacecraft. A body lay motionless before Lord Peacecraft - it was none other than the Father. A few paces from the priest, the sister shuddered then crumpled to the ground in a sickening thud.

How could that have happened? They were only supposed to have 'requested' for this site to be turned to the local Protestant diocese. None of them should have been harmed, much less murdered!

Two were dead because of his father.

Milliardo was appalled. Even more so when he saw his father, with no hint of remorse, began ordering his men to take into custody those who have initiated the small rebellion.

"Haven't you done enough, Father?" he cried as he ran up to him. "They were only protecting what is rightfully theirs!"

A swift, gloved hand slapped Milliardo. Lord Peacecraft glowered at him. "Do not think you're too old to be punished, Milliardo. Do not question my authority in front of my men and do as you're told." 

Milliardo scowled at the retreating form of Lord Peacecraft, who continued to order his men to restrain the villagers. His father was beyond reproach and from that moment he vowed that he wanted nothing more to do with him.

Turning around he knelt before the nun and realised that she was still breathing, albeit shallowly.

"Oh forgive me, dear Sister!" he cried as he gingerly gathered her into his arms. "I should've stopped him."

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him. "It is not my place to judge or blame, dear child. Do not blame yourself either."

"How can I not? I stood by and watch the madman unleash a horror upon innocent lives!"

"Let your remorse be your penance, then. If you feel that is not enough, then I would ask you for a favour."

"Name it, Sister," Zechs said resolutely, "If it is within my power to do it, I will not fail you."

"Please take care of Duo."

"Is he an orphan here?"

"SISTER HELEN!!!!"

Milliardo looked up to see the same little boy who was on the roof of the chapel run up to him.

"Let her go you, bully!" he cried as he launched himself at Milliardo and began pushing and kicking the blond youth away. "Leave her alone! Go away!!" 

"Stop, don't! I'm trying to help!" Milliardo tried to subdue the boy.

"Duo..." Helen whispered.

Duo stopped pounding at Milliardo and threw himself on the sister.

"I was good I promised I won't fight I didnae amma good boy amma good boy amma good boy!" he rambled on hysterically.

"Yes, you are, Duo. I'm very proud of you, but I must go now."

"NO! Y'canna go! I want you here! I gotta take care o'you! You gotta take care o'me!" he wailed into her chest.

"Don't worry, God will care for me now." Her eyes met Milliardo's glistening ones as she smiled. "And an angel will watch over you."

Helen slowly shut her eyes; her grasp on Milliardo's hand grew slack. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he lowered his head and whispered, "Please forgive me."

Duo's hysterical sobbing suddenly became frantic screaming. Milliardo's eyes flew open when he realised that a soldier had forcibly wrenched Duo away from Helen. 

"PUT HIM DOWN!" the young lord roared as he stood to face the soldier.

The soldier, normally used to the lordling being quiet and passive, stopped dead in his tracks at Milliardo's outburst.

"But, sir, Lord Peacecraft's orders - "

"CONFOUND those orders!" Milliardo spat, "Put the boy down now or I will MAKE you do it." his hand moved to his sabre.

Duo ran back to Helen the moment his feet touched the ground.

"Do what you have to do but leave the boy alone," he ordered, "Let the others know that he is now under my protection. I want you to make sure that the Father and the Sister are taken care of by the parishioners. Make certain that you do not fail me. If my father questions your actions, _respectfully_ tell him that you are doing it under my command and I will deal with his Lordship when I am finished here."

The soldier saluted and hurriedly left.

"Duo?" Milliardo touched the boy's shoulder gently.

"Go away, you're a bad man!" He swatted Milliardo's hand away.

"I know it seems that way, but I won't hurt you. I promise you."

"NO!"

"Please, you cannot stay here," Milliardo tried again. "Sister Helen would want you to be safe."

"I have to take care of her..." he wailed.

"Don't worry about that, I promise she will be taken care of. Please come with me."

"No, you're a bully! You all are!" Duo jumped to his feet, charged at Milliardo and kicked him in the shin.

The blonde yelped and doubled over in pain. For a little boy, Milliardo thought, Duo certainly had strength. After the stars disappeared from his vision, the young orphan was long gone. He searched the church compound and the neighbourhood for the next few hours but could not find Duo. No doubt the little scamp knew every hiding place and secret hold within the village; Milliardo recognised the odds were against him. He hadn't even begun to fulfil his promise to Helen and he had already failed.

Disheartened, Milliardo returned to the church and went straight up to the altar. Kneeling before it, he crossed himself.

"Sister Helen, I am sorry I couldn't find Duo. But I promised you that I'll look after him and I'll be damned before I go back on my words. I will do all I can to find him and take care of him, with or without his knowledge, with or without his consent. Until then, I ask you to please watch over him."

Milliardo rose and headed to the poor box. Reaching for his coin pouch, he realised that it was gone. He could guess what happened to it. He smiled to himself and turned to the altar again. 

"I know I probably don't have to say this, Sister, please make sure that he spends the money well."

~*~

**Lintin Island, China.  
Six years later. **

Zechs sat alone in the chapel staring at figure of Mother Mary cradling baby Jesus. He had not been into a place of worship since that fateful day. He had not felt worthy to be in such a hallowed place, he could not face being in there until he had fulfilled his promise but something called to him that day. 

He was also doing something else he hadn't done in years - praying. It was the first time in years he had done that - said the rosary. The dark rosewood beads were smooth and slightly irregular, signs of a well-used item. Its previous owner no doubt said the rosary often.

Some six years ago, in a small, quiet Irish village in County Kilkenny, he received this gift. In his manic and confused state that day, he had not realised that Helen had pressed her rosary into his hand. He had treasured it since. It was the first time however that he was using it. He remembered, barely, the prayer.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord be with thee, blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, Amen."

Finishing the last decade, he slipped the beads back into his pocket. He picked up the envelope sitting next to him on the pew and took the note out. He had already read it, but somehow he felt like he needed to read it again. It said, in an erratic, flamboyant scrawl:

> _Thank you for being the angel who watched over me! Sister Helen would have been proud._

After sending Duo off, he returned to his room to find the note sitting on his dresser. He was rather surprised when he first read it. He had not realised that Duo recognised him when he found the braided boy again. Duo gave no indication that he remembered the naÔve, foolish lordling, Milliardo, neither did he show any hint that he realised that Zechs and Milliardo were one and the same.

It didn't matter to him when Duo found out, or that he did. He was just glad that he had been able to care for him like he promised he would.

He strode silently towards the altar, bowed reverently and crossed himself.

"Don't worry, Sister Helen," he said, "Through others, I will keep watching over him as best I can. You and I both know he still needs to be taken care of. Always. As long as I draw breath, you can continue to count on me. Rest well, dear Sister."

~Fin~


End file.
